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Smoking Barrels: A Talk Amidst a Crossfire
Shamus Stormcrow is sitting in the darkest corner of the Mudfoot, a speakeasy hidden underneath the Bridge of Huradoor, where he now creates a most devious potion. As a break from the Tournament of Valrose, the Laughing Skulls scuttle around the town’s hidden underbelly, feverishly searching for money, women, and the soft release of the sweet tendrils of the Mortis Root. The very same Mortis Root that many use for their cultish religion that frees them of their mortal husk and places them among the stars with goddesses of death. The very same Mortis Root that Shamus Stormcrow is preparing at this moment, so that he may, once again, unite his mind with the spirits that unite us all in the end. The mist that emanates from the vial is a potent one. It reeks of burnt skin and smoke, yet entices with the welcoming smell of roses and fine white wine. The color is that of a burnt blue, it is as if a crisp blue ocean was sucked of all of its life essence, stripped of its beaut. To those who don’t welcome the drinks offerings, it manifests itself as fresh blood so that the followers of the dastardly dew look like nothing but filthy vampires. Though Mortis Root can be ingested, it is more effective when melted and only has the ability to mimic blood in aqueous form, making it seem like it was always intended to be liquid. It is the most evil of drinks, and yet it’s effects are that of pure nirvana. Shamus lurks deeper into the shadows to ingest the concoction with post haste, as two figures step through the heavy sliding hatch that is the entrance to the Mudfoot. Shamus recognizes the woman, but cannot fit a name to the figure. The woman is adorned in shiny gold and dark crimson, resembling a fiery phoenix. The other is a common nave, a young boy who must’ve stumbled in after the scenery chewing maiden. They were very clearly not together. Or so it would seem. Shamus has seen these kinds of facades before. To everyone else in the Mudfoot, the boy had no relation to the goddess, but to Shamus he was an accomplice in whatever bounty the huntress was searching for. The woman locks eyes immediately with the spectre that is Shamus and approaches with hesitation, her sword at her side. The boy looks around nervously, then follows a solid five steps behind her. Shamus leans forward, bringing the axe that is sheathed on his back out from the shadows into the dim light of the candles surrounding him. The lady stops and lets her hand drop to her side from the hilte. She speaks,“Are you the leader of the Laughing Skulls? Shamus Stormcrow?” “Who wants to know?” Shamus retorts, hiding his suspicions of the boy’s intentions. The lady steps forward slowly. “I don’t think you are in well enough shape to be keeping secrets" These words spark Shamus’s mind with thoughts of anger and bloodlust. He slams his hands on the wooden table and raises his body and his voice.“I may have lost the battle, but I sure as hell gained valuable information on a potential target. Even I would pay many Sovereigns to see him kneeling before me so I may show him the sharp side of my axe!” The regulars at the Mudfoot look over at the commotion, but swiftly return to their grog at the realization of the common squabble that unfolds in the corner. The volume of Shamus’s lark doesn’t phase the woman, but the boy squints his eyes at the ferocity of the shade’s response. The woman grins, “A real warrior would have taken that opportunity today. Instead you proved to Valrose that your combat skills are nothing but a bloated fable.” Her insult pierced Shamus like an arrowhead. His mind, now fueled with steam of battle, remembers the lady’s name and the cool aura he previously maintained morphed into a billowing pyre of rage. His anger released through his loud, harsh jab. “I suggest you watch your mouth, Lady Calicana, before I start to collect more information on you!” His words shake the planks that hold the tavern up. Even these quarrels don’t disturb the patrons at the bar, as the only one who flinches is the young boy before Calicana. With her identity no longer in question, she reaches for a jingling pouch at her side and speaks.“If a man can’t be killed, he can most certainly be bought.” She empties the bag onto the table. The ringing of countless Sovereigns on the rotted wood of the table calms Shamus’ heated disposition. He sits calmly back into his chair and attacks the situation with a different attitude now that money is involved. He scoffed “Ha, usually it is I who pay the whores for their mouths.” Calicana brushed off this most insatiable of burns and pulled a bench towards the table. “Funny, I find myself doing the same thing.” She said as she set herself across from Shamus. The boy leaned against the wall closest to Calicana, still unaware of Shamus’ knowledge of his existence. Calicana spoke again, “Your mouth is mine for the night, so use it for something useful. Tell me of Greyne Mobilis.” Shamus folded his hands to his mouth, hiding the glint in his eye caused by the amount of money. “How does coin like this end up in hands like yours?” says Shamus. “That does not concern you, though I doubt you would bother to care” Calicana is followed by the boy on the wall.“Though it is probably the same way a small boy from outside Halia Mortes became the leader of a guild. By being good at her job.” The boy’s voice is deeper than his physique would imply. Shamus knows that he is most certainly not what he seems, so he shifts the focus of his interest towards the boy. “And you are?” Shamus asks the young urchin. The boy remains stylishly leaned against the wall of the tavern and responds, “A fan of sorts. I watched your fight today, a valiant effort indeed. Were his strikes as fast as they say?” Shamus takes a swig from his vial, and drops the glass to the table to answer, “He may not look it, but that little gnat sure had some high strikes.” With the vial empty, Shamus reached for his side to grab another serving of the Mortis Root. As he pulled it into view, what he sees as a rehearsal for the beautiful dance that is death, Calicana and the boy see as the blood of a human. The unmistakable texture, the almost neon color, the reflection of their faces in the viscous liquid. Calicana inquired about the the vialed blood, “I’ve never seen a man drink his brethren so openly.” Shamus laughs loudly and with amazement that a lady like Calicana isn’t acquainted with the powers of a Mortis Root. “Ah, such succulent sanguine! It gives me death in life, a blessing I can only ever receive once. Would you like to partake in death with me?” He holds the vial out clumsy to Calicana’s face. Calicana doesn’t hesitate to grab the vial, but she waits to drink as the contents still urk her insides. The boy tries to push his agenda onto Shamus once again. “But if you could recognize Greyne’s high strikes, how did you fail to best him on the field?” Shamus glances back to the boy, now attacking the boy’s interest in his last opponent. “Why do you want to know of Greyne Mobilis? Your persistence is not welcomed at my deathbed.” The boy pushes onward. “Is it not normal for a lion to know of the gazelle? Our fine lady could be facing your bane within the following sunset.” Shamus catches on “Ah, so you think Lady Calicana is fighting Greyne tomorrow? Well, Greyne will certainly end you quickly.” Calicana, now having the topic right where she wants it chimes in “From one fighter to another, say you relived the fight. How would you change it?” “For one thing, I would watch for his speed, as it is almost unrivaled. If I could I would cut off one of his toes. That would certainly put him in his place.” He raises his voice to the scattered members of his guild in the pub “Isn’t that right boys?” A small posse of men laugh at a table in the opposite corner, raising the Mortis Root to their leader's remark. Calicana looks down at the vial she received from Shamus. “Say someone were to make your vision true, how would they accomplish such a task with someone so fleet of foot?” Shamus shows the most maniacal of smiles. He pulls up another vial of Mortis Root and raises it up to Calicana “Let me tell you, but first…” He uncorked the vial and downed the whole drink in one go. Calicana held it up, and after careful consideration, took a swig of the vial. Calicana’s mind flooded with darkness, she feels her spirit rise out of the pub, her mind soaring ever higher through the Veil. Time moves, but her soul stood still, eternal, ever standing as people relive and die before her. She could see the hands of a goddess high above, pushing the tides of the battle. Her face was covered in a shroud, but her fingers stretch out into thousands of wisps that skewer through the soldiers that fight. As each of the fighters fall, the tendrils relinquish back to her cold hands, so the souls may drift upward and become one with the goddess above. Calicana watched as battles of past and future reenact with her as an invisible spectator. Hours, months, years, eternities. Then, in an instant, nothing. There is nothing around Calicana, and even she wondered if she would blend with her surroundings. Then, in the distance glows a white silhouette. It is so far away that if she wasn’t focusing on it, it could easily be mistaken as a star. Then, thousands of stars begin to appear, other silhouettes, appearing as an army of the darkness it seemed. Calicana spins around to get a good look at all of the lights around her. One in particular catches her eye. From a distance, it would only appear as an off purple nova, but to Calicana it was the shadow of Ruukina. Calicana calls out to her. “Ruukina, why do you watch over me?” The shadow disappears. A booming voice echoes through the nothingness. “Because you are a most worthy vessel.” The voice frightens Calicana, and she turns around to see the Goddess of Chaos looming over her. Her size is that of a mountain, a mountain that emanates soft purple light all around her body. Her arms out stretched to cup Calicana as if she were a wilting flower. “You remind me of my mortal form many years ago. Do you know what the 1000 Maidens are?” Calicana is truly clueless “No, am I one of these maidens you speak of?”. “No, child, we are the maidens” The lights around Ruukina glow brighter, spouting into a chorus of beautiful voices. A concinnity of altos and sopranos create blissful harmony that lands on Calicana’s eardrums like a beautiful arrangement. Callicana asks about the maidens “Are you all watching over me?” “No, we watch over all. You are merely an aid in our cause.” A separate voice once again alarms Calicana, as she turns around to see Unquala, the goddess of death. She is much larger than Ruukina, but gives off a wonderful blue hue. Calicana kneels at the sight of Unquala, not only out of honor, but out of wonder at her size. “What do I do then? Why am I here?” Unquala fades backwards slowly into the stars as she whispers to Calicana. “For now, you will help when needed. Ruukina will guide you.” Calicana turns around to see that Ruukina is also fading into the stars. Ruukina calls out “Goodbye, praise your glorious seven.” “To severed toes. And to Greyne Mobilis!” Shamus holds another vial up for a toast. Calicana comes to, and raises her vial as well, noticing the vial of blood is no longer red, but is now a dull blue. She smiles oafishly. “To Valorse.” Category:Calicana Fireborn Category:Character lore Category:Amarka